Author's notes: I wrote this years ago, and it's been sitting on my computer ever since. Which may be a bit of a waste, because I like it. I've decided to upload it bit by bit, just in case there are other people who might enjoy it.

To all intents and purposes this is a traditional TNG novel of more or less average length, nothing out of the ordinary. It's rated T for some darkness and violence, and there's one whole scene that might be considered sexually suggestive.

In the TNG timeline this story would take place approximately between Face of the Enemy and Tapestry. It doesn't fit in there, this mission takes too long for that, but I don't care. What's more important is that the events of Chain of Command happened about three months ago, and that this is very, very definitely post-Best of Both Worlds. In fact, that's the whole point, if there is a point.

That's all, really. Have fun.

Oh, yes: Star Trek is the property of Paramount. This is a work of fan fiction, written solely for the pleasure of it. I am not making money here, and don't intend to.

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SHIP OF FOOLS

Prologue

Captain's Log, Stardate 46558.1

Despite the number of initial difficulties the final negotiations on Mavvion have been successfully concluded. I decided, at short notice and at the invitation of two of the parties concerned, to extend my stay yet again in order to witness the actual signing of the treaties. The experiences of the past have shown that the internal feuds of the people of Mavvion, rooted as they are in a maze of time-honored alliances and the conflicting claims of their ruling families, are all too likely to survive the best efforts of mediators. However, their known respect for anything put into formal language and sealed will hopefully prevent hostilities from breaking out again as soon as the ceremonies are over and actual changes are called for.

The delay has made it impossible for me to personally escort the Federation ambassadors aboard the Enterprise to the Fragan VI summit as planned. Instead, we will rendezvous with the flagship on its way back towards our interrupted charting assignment in the Hellicon Cluster.

The captain switched off his log and reached for the book he had been putting aside a few minutes earlier. Opening it, he directed a sidelong glance towards his pilot who at that moment was very intent upon the shuttlecraft's controls – and remained intent on them under the captain's scrutiny. The Mavvion mission had been a trying time for both of them, but Lieutenant Worf had fared the worse. Caught between his duty to protect his captain and the necessity of keeping a diplomatic facade, he had found their hosts' attitude, by turns devious, coolly dismissive and smugly ingratiating, exasperating in the last degree.

And arrogant beyond belief, thought the captain. Once or twice he had come close to shouting at the delegates to put aside their bickering over irrelevancies and stick to the issue. He had found out early that whenever their conviction of their own inherent superiority was challenged, the warring parties tended to close ranks fairly quickly and turn on the outsider instead. He had even managed to use that discovery towards his own end – that of achieving a lasting peace between the factions. Worf, however, had loathed the Mavvionians from the first moment, and they in turn had not bothered to conceal the fact that they considered him a savage. Worse still, he had warned the captain that a people as devoid of honor as their hosts would stoop to anything if they found the Federation envoy not to their liking – while Picard had maintained serenely that neither side would gain anything by an attempt to assassinate the mediator. And as if the fates had conspired against him, there had been one right at the beginning. After that Worf, every suspicion confirmed, had kept up an untiring watch over his captain that was as embarrassing as it was unhelpful for the negotiations, along with a subtle but unmistakable way of implying I told you so.

Another sidelong glance told the captain that Worf was now sitting with his arms crossed, impassively watching the starfield ahead. Of course he had overheard every word of the log entry, along with the fact that it didn't mention the exact nature of some of the initial difficulties. It was the captain's way of implying that he sympathized with the reactions of his security chief. Picard's lips twitched a little as he studied that craggy profile.

"It's over and done with, Lieutenant", he said quietly.

"I shall welcome the change", growled Worf, still unappeased. "Any change."

"Mr. Worf, the representatives of the Mavvionian official caste have a reputation for being pompous, xenophobic and arrogant, and they have certainly done their best to justify it in their behavior towards you. Frankly, I am not sure what they want with the Federation – or even what the Federation wants with them", he added ruefully. "Still, they did ask for a Federation representative to attend the finalising of those treaties, and they did say they'll apply for full membership as soon as they have sorted out their internal bureaucracy... whenever that may be. So I suppose we acquitted ourselves well enough on the whole." He sighed. "Nevertheless..."

Worf braced himself. He had seen it coming.

"Your reactions to their offer of assistance – their entire security procedure – didn't exactly improve the atmosphere, Lieutenant. In fact there was one occasion when I thought for a moment that we had bungled it for good."

Worf didn't even pretend not to know which occasion the captain was referring to. "Sir, the official offered me a deliberate provocation by implying I could not guarantee your safety. After what had happened..."

"He offered his assistance", interrupted Picard sharply.

"With all due respect, Captain", said Worf, still speaking to the starfield, "I do not need the assistance of a man who might have caused your death by a foolish blunder. If it was a blunder."

"Which you don't believe anyway."

"No, sir. Neither do I believe in the sincerity of his offer. It was meant as an insult."

"Mr. Worf", Picard said a little wearily, "I wonder if it was really necessary to take it as such, and state your opinion in quite such a fashion."

"I would have been deficient in my duties had I not done so", stated Worf, turning his head for the first time. "Captain, these are people without honor. I could not allow them to believe that they had fooled me. It was your safety that was at stake, not just my... reputation," he concluded, returning to his contemplation of the starfield.

Picard looked up quickly. Had that been a flash of the humor Worf always maintained he didn't understand? The captain had had his doubts about that issue for quite some time now. There was no way of telling from Worf's expression, of course. And in any case this conversation was clearly going nowhere.

"Oh well, in that case they got more than they bargained for", he remarked. Mollified, Worf bent over his controls again. "Rendezvous with the Enterprise in five hours twenty-seven minutes, sir", he announced. The captain nodded, turned a page, and became immersed in his book.

- - - - - - -

Haughtily dispensing with the tractor beam, Worf had brought the Jungk into the Enterprise's main shuttlebay with no apparent manoevring and proceeded to land her just as gracefully, switching off the engines the precise moment the shuttle touched the floor. He was a fine pilot, and with another fine pilot sitting in the adjacent seat he took some care to do a flawless job. The shuttlecraft settled down with just the slightest shiver.

There were people waiting outside in the hangar when Worf opened the aft door and stepped aside for the captain to precede him. Geordi La Forge was there, a couple of technicians in tow, and Commander Riker, feet apart, arms crossed and a grin on his face. As soon as the door opened he uncrossed his arms and came towards them with long, easy strides and his hand held out.

"Good evening to you, Captain. It's been quite a long two weeks. Showing off again, Worf?"

Worf straightened a little, giving Riker a brief look that passed for a greeting, and Picard was about to answer in kind when there was a distraction. A man had emerged from behind one of the shuttlecraft to look at them, and there was something so decidedly unnatural about his movements that all three of them turned their heads automatically to see what was amiss. A moment later he started towards them across the open space of the shuttlebay, slowly at first, as if uncertain of his own purpose, then faster, one arm raised and pointing ahead in a grotesquely accusatory gesture. After a very few steps he had broken into a run of sorts, and by now his movements were those of a drunkard or a man in a delirium. On he came, lurching and staggering; now the other arm came up as well, and there was a glint of metal in the outstretched hand.

Riker took two steps that placed him squarely in front of Picard, but even before that Worf had produced a phaser seemingly out of thin air, taken aim and fired, all in one single unhurried movement. The blast hit the man in midriff, stopping him in his tracks as if he had run into some solid obstacle, and sent him sprawling backwards. One of the technicians gave a belated shout of warning the moment before the body hit the floor.

"What the hell –", began Riker.

"Now what was that?" said the captain.

Riker hit his communicator. "Riker to sickbay. We have an emergency in the main shuttlebay. Heavy phaser stun. – Nice reaction, Worf", he added appreciatively.

Worf gave him another brief look before walking over to the unmoving body, phaser in hand, and staring down on the man. Then he bent and picked something up from the floor, studied it, frowned and presented it to Riker and the captain who had by now joined him.

"Laser welder, Commander", he said briefly. "It was on power."

"That would make quite an effective weapon." Riker turned the thing over in his hands, frowning in his turn. "I wonder if he really meant to use it on one of us. Geordi, you know the man?"

La Forge approached, visibly shaken. "Sure. That's Galinski. Supposed to be doing some work on shuttle six over there. I just don't understand – what got into him all of a sudden?"

"Yes, that's something I'd like to know too", said Riker somewhat grimly. He was still looking at the laser welder. "I've never seen anybody act quite like that. There had better be a very good explanation – it just shouldn't happen on this ship." He looked up, managing a crooked grin. "Sorry for that. I was going to say, welcome home, Captain."

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